


Protection

by Dystopian_Dramaqueen



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV), The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
Genre: Beth nurses him back to health, Carrying, F/M, Held at Gunpoint, Hurt/Comfort, If you don't like whump just skip this one, Nick gets beat up by the Eyes, No.9, Prompts:, Take me instead, Trigger warning: referenced/ implied torture, Whipped, Whump, Whumptober 2020, definace, forced to his knees, i've got you, manhandled, no.11, no.3, no.30, no.31, no.7, thats it thats the story, wound reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dystopian_Dramaqueen/pseuds/Dystopian_Dramaqueen
Summary: Nick takes a fall to protect Beth from the Eyes. He gets beat up, and Beth nurses him back to health.
Relationships: Nick Blaine / Beth
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Protection

“Oxy, Percocet, Addies.” 

Beth slides pills from the table into a clear plastic baggie, twisting it shut and tucking it into her apron pocket. 

“Oxy, Percocet, Addies.”

She’s making gift bags for the girls upstairs. Each girl gets six pills. Two of each. Not enough to overdose or commit suicide. The perfect amount to take the edge off. 

“Oxy, Percocet, Addies.”

She murmurs as she works, praying the rosary of the black market. Asking the patron saint of battered women to show mercy on the commander’s playthings. Beth senses someone looking at her. She glances up, across the table at Nick, who’s watching her with quiet amusement. 

“What?”

Nick smirks. “You look happy.”

A smile plays at the corner of her mouth. “Maybe my true calling is to be a drug dealer. Who knows.” 

Nick shakes his head. “You like helping people.”

Beth nods. “That’s why I went to culinary school. Food makes people feel better. Here in Gilead? _Drugs_ make you feel better. It’s all the same instinct.”

Nick gestures at the pills. “You can tell them apart?”

Beth nods, pointing at the piles. “Adderall’s orange. Oxy’s are white. Percocet’s yellow.” She quirks an eyebrow. “I might even have a future as a pharmacist, who knows.”

Nick’s eyes sparkle with affection, but his smile falls away, his brow wrinkling as he listens.

Beth searches his face nervously. “What?” 

Nick shoots her a warning look. 

Beth listens hard. She hears it too. 

_Voices. Boots. Soldiers. Lots of them._

Beth scoops the remaining pills into her apron pocket just as the metal doors of the kitchen are kicked open. Four soldiers in black tactical gear enter the kitchen, machine guns in hand. 

The kitchen staff cower, eyes down. Barely daring to breathe.

Beth looks at Nick, terrified. He holds her gaze before moving between her and the soldiers.

A senior Eye paces into the kitchen, hands clasped behind his back. “We’ve received reports of smuggling through this establishment. We will be conducting a search of the premises and a formal inquiry, starting with the Marthas.”

The Inquisitor strolls across the kitchen, gesturing for Nick to leave. “You can go, Guardian. We’re not here for you.”

Nick says nothing. He holds eye contact but doesn’t move. 

The Inquisitor’s brow creases with irritation. His voice carries a deadly warning. “Step aside.”

The tension in the room is palpable. Fear and testosterone and violence, like the seconds before a thunderstorm. 

Beth has taken advantage of the distraction, backing slowly around the corner, switching out her apron, stuffing the one filled with drugs deep in a garbage bin. 

She reappears at the edge of the room, nodding reassurance to the others that she’d stowed the contraband. Even if they find it, it isn’t on anyone’s person. Her heart pounds painfully hard in her chest.

The other Eyes have encircled Nick, training their guns on him. 

Fire flickers in the Inquisitor’s eyes. He looks Nick up and down, pursing his lips and nodding.

“A volunteer. Very well. Take him.”

Two soldiers grab Nick’s arms and force him out of the kitchen. 

Beth’s eyes widen. She screams inside but she’s frozen, unable to move or breathe. 

The Inquisitor barks for the remaining soldiers to search the premises and interview the staff.

_\---------------------_

Beth is exhausted but sleep is nowhere in sight. She rolls to her side, chewing her lip. 

_Three days. It’s been three days since the Eyes took Nick._

She’d asked around but nobody knew anything. _Where they took him. What they charged him with. When he’ll be back...IF he’ll be back._ Beth blows out a breath. _I have nothing to go on. Not even a whisper. All I can do is wait._

Her eyes glaze over as nightmarish images cycle through her mind again. Beth clenches her eyes shut hard, shaking her head, desperate to clear her mind. _Whatever they’re doing, it’s bad, but there’s no sense worrying until he’s back. Whatever’s happened, we’ll get through it. Get him a shower, clean change of clothes, something to eat. Get him patched up before he goes back to Waterford._

_Waterford_. Beth’s anger flickers at the thought of that soulless bastard. 

_After the arrest, Beth rushed to Fred’s hotel room. She waited outside for hours._

_When he finally emerged with his whore in tow, Beth told him that Nick had been taken in for questioning._

_She may as well have reported a change in the carpet cleaning company._

_Fred told her to arrange another driver and to inform Serena when Nick had returned._

_He left without a backward glance._

_No promise to look into it._

_No offer to intercede._

_Because servants are nothing to them._

_Just pawns._

_Replaceable._

_Expendable._

Beth’s head snaps up off her pillow, listening intently as rushed footsteps in the hallway approach her door. She sits up, heart hammering in her chest. 

Another Martha rushes into the room, closing the door quietly, taking Beth’s hands and speaking in a hasty whisper. “They’re back.”

Beth stands. She’s heard enough. 

“Careful.” The Martha shakes her head. “Kitchen’s crawling with Eyes.” 

Beth curses under her breath, pushing past her and walking quickly. 

Her stomach sinks as she rounds the corner. Armed men in black tactical gear are pacing the kitchen. Twice as many as before. 

Beth steps into line with the rest of the staff, keeping her face neutral. 

The same Inquisitor is back, pacing the space, hands clasped behind his back. “Black market trading undermines our devine republic.” 

Beth clenches her jaw. _Fucking hypocrites_. _The Eyes trade as much shit here as we do. This little crackdown is just for show. Some commander couldn’t get hard, needed to feel powerful. It’s bullshit._

He stops pacing, staring the kitchen staff down. “The punishment will not be so lenient next time. Henceforward, persons who trade illegally will be executed.”

The door opens and two soldiers enter, dragging Nick, limp and sagging between them. They drop him to his knees on the floor. He's breathing heavily. His forehead is dotted with sweat, his skin a sickly shade of gray. Nick's dark eyes blink heavily, struggling to focus through a fog of pain and fatigue. He senses Beth in the crowd and holds her gaze, like hanging on to a lifeline. Beth nods slightly, trying to soften her worried expression into something reassuring. 

The Inquisitor turns to leave. The Eyes follow his lead, filing out of the kitchen. 

As soon as they’re gone, Beth rushes to Nick, kneeling by his side. Her brow wrinkles with concern. “You look like shit, my friend.”

Her voice is the first soothing thing Nick’s heard in days. He nods weakly. “I’ve been better.”

Beth is relieved by the sarcasm but concerned by how raw and hoarse his voice is _._ The way hers always got after screaming at concerts. 

“Come on.” Beth lifts his arm to slip it around her shoulders. “Let’s get you up.” 

Nick pulls away, holding his arm to his chest like a bird with a broken wing.

“Shit, sorry” she says, chastising herself. She slips her arm around his waist instead. “Lean on me. Try and stand up, ok?” 

It takes three Marthas to get Nick to his feet. They do finally get him down the hall and into Beth’s room. Someone arrives with medical supplies. Beth nods thanks and the women leave her. 

Nick is slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. “I didn’t tell them anything.” 

Beth nods, fighting back tears of rage and grief. _I know. We’d all be on the wall if you had. Fucking bastards._

Nick swallows thickly. What little strength he has left is draining out of him rapidly. 

Beth centers herself. She takes his face in her hands. 

“It’s over, ok? You’re safe. I’m gonna clean you up, ok?” 

Nick nods. 

Beth coaxes him off the wall. “Come on. Just a little father.” Nick presses his lips together, grimacing with each step. Beth guides him to sit on the edge of her bed. 

She unbuttons his shirt cuffs matter of factly, like a mother getting a child ready for a bath. Tears form in her eyes when she rolls up his sleeves. His wrists are raw. _Rope burns_. She keeps her face even, unbuttoning his shirt like she had so many times before during their stolen moments together. Her brows cinch together. Her eyes find his, simmering with grief.

Nick shakes his head weakly. “It’s ok.” 

Tears shimmer in her eyes as her fingers trace the dark purple bruises across his chest and ribs. _It’s not ok. You’re so gentle. How could anyone do this to you?_

Beth steels herself, needing to finish her assessment so she can get him some medicine. Without thinking, she lifts his arm to pull it out of his sleeve. 

Nick grunts, grabbing her wrist hard, shaking his head. He draws a shaky breath through his nose, blowing it out slowly to gather himself “Shoulder’s fucked up.” 

“Sorry” Beth murmurs. She sits beside him on the narrow bed, gently easing the shirt off so he doesn’t have to move. Nick grits his teeth as she peels it away from his back. Tears run down his cheek and he grimaces as a lattice work of lash wounds come into view. Beth feels sick. 

She takes his hands in hers, looking them over, checking his fingers. _Nothing missing, nothing broken._

She pulls Nick to his feet, then kneels, unlacing his boots, pulling them off gently. Nick hisses when she peels his left sock off. Her heart sinks when she sees he’s missing two toenails. _Just two. Did they realize you weren’t gonna talk?_ She pushes the images out of her mind. 

She unbuckles his belt, slipping his pants down and off, running her hands over his thighs and calves. _Legs are fine. No bruises, nothing broken._ She helps him sit again on the side of the bed. 

She retrieves a glass of water and two pills, kneeling in front of Nick. She places a gentle hand on his thigh, keeping her voice soft and soothing. “I need you to take these, ok?” 

Nick blinks, glancing at her and the medicine. “Putting me out of my misery?” 

Beth fights a smile, rolling her eyes. “No smart-ass. Just some Percocet to take the edge off. 

“I know” Nick says, a weak smile forming. “Yellow. I remember.” He opens his mouth, accepting the pills and water, swallowing weakly before shutting his eyes again. “Thanks.” He murmurs. 

“Don’t thank me yet. We’ve gotta get you on your stomach, then you can rest.”

Beth works quickly to set up a first aid station. She clears the surface of her dresser, sweeping photos, trinkets into the drawer and closing it. She unzips the medical kit, pulling out two syringes, one a broad spectrum antibiotic, and one a pain shot. 

She pulls Nick’s waistband down, exposing the fine hair on his left butt cheek. She cleans the skin with an alcohol wipe and gives him the shots. He doesn’t seem to notice. Beth kneels by the bed, relieved to see the tension finally gone from his face. His eyes are shut, his breaths deep and even. _He’s out cold._

Beth finally starts to relax too. 

She gets a basin of warm soapy water and cleans his wounds, changing out the water and towels when they get too bloody. An hour later, his skin looks much better. Clean. Less angry. She dresses his wounds and pulls a blanket up over him. 

_\---------------------------_

Beth decides not to call Serena, because _fuck that bitch. They didn’t even miss him, they can wait a little longer._

She returns to work, finishing her duties quickly. She keeps it together until she’s alone in a shower stall. That’s when all of the rage and grief and helplessness flood out of her in deep racking sobs. She cries for ages, letting all of it out. It feels good, she needed the release.

She’s exhausted after. Days of fatigue finally catch up with her. Beth returns to her room and settles on the floor beside the bed, taking Nick’s hand in hers. She watches him for a minute, soothed by the even rise and fall of his chest. 

Beth’s heart swells with thankfulness that he’s finally back, safe in her bed. She strokes his dark curls, resting her head against his, falling into a deep healing sleep for the first time in days.

\------------------------

Nick feels 90% better after 3 days, but he lets Beth keep him at Jezebel’s for a full week. 

With every day that passes, the bandages come away cleaner, he sleeps deeper and needs less medicine. 

Beth capitalizes on his captivity to cook all of her best dishes for him. Chicken noodle soup, pot pie, the miso broth she used in her award winning ramen soup. Nick eats every bite, savoring the fresh herbs she’d procured from who knows where. 

The sparkle returns to his eyes as he watches her fuss over him. He was right. Beth’s greatest joy is taking care of people. It’s good to see her this happy.


End file.
